dreaming

i need cell service, no bars, stem research on hold, insane in the membrane wall, leaking into the plasma, prism, prismatic, shine my light across the spectrum, ultra violent to infractional read

boredom, my kingdom of couch worship and empty nest

introspection

is this a dream

the hallways of my mind seem drafty, dusty, cluttered with memories of days gone, days never happened, things that haunt, that taunt that only occurred and didn’t matter, gray matter, synaptical, analytical, neurons and neurosis

i want out

falling into the ether again

is it the stars that twinkle or just glitter inside my eyelids, the lost connections, missing hit detections, a culmination of best intentions and explosions of emotional dissonance

serve me rare, cool center, let it sit for a moment, concealed, congealed, coagulate and misinterpret, a conman, a mark, a miner in a mine searching for precious gems of wisdom, the shaft is collapsing, par for the course

invasive, persuasive and extroverted

i am guilty of every crime, every sin and every nuance

roaming these corridors like a bull enraged, disengaged from the things that make me whole, my parts orbit a black hole, drawn with shaky hands into the former artist known as being human

human been, not being anything but spatial antiquity, older than i was younger than when i dyed myself a different hue, from this womb with a view, this amniotic internal combustion engine, all glucose and sodium nitrate, the migrational patterns of the flock of dissidence that makes up the made up land of percussive profanity and candy coated pictures of youth

a new shade, shade to be thrown, cooler match heads prevail, strike that, a perfect flame, an old flame, a surname, nickname, new blame, my shame

rattle the chains of past indiscretions

a genius, a fetus, a fetid shaman of fetishes and cherished regrets

an empty home, inside a hole, inside this shell, inside this head, inside this soul, nowhere near the maniacal laughter of giving up, giving in, going out and surrounded by the spectre of past lives on display

i wanted to be an artist

an architect

but diving into the pool of talent left spinal decompression and rabid depression

scars like a road map to failure

lies like a trail through the dust

the footsteps of giants

traverse this landscape of mental subversives and nautical metaphors, similes and plurality

the jagged line between patriotism and terrorism, finite like the space between protons and neutrons, nuclei and orbital electrons, magnetic attractions and polar shifts, shafts, rifts, gifts, rafting the rapids of an indifferent mind, blinded by beauty and using touch to feel anything but alone

i am dreaming, it always starts this way

self hatred blending into the cosmos, becoming a chameleon, camoflauged by ever shifting tales of tragic misadventures, youthful and alerted to the authorities, authoritative dictatorships of infatuation and fermented pestilence, parlay the small talk of the opening act, the introduction, induction and reduced to the basic protein shake up

my skin houses all the stars of this universe, inversely proportional to the planets elliptical path around the son

the dreamer dreaming of fantastic fantasies in which he is the heroic action figure in the collection of playthings boxed in the attic, anecdotal and insipid, vapid and worn out from defeating the evil forces and saving the day once again

day drinking, daydreaming, cave diving, spelunking about in the guano and making believe he believes in anything other than the shit he stands in, stands for nothing, stand still, stand tall, stand ready

now fall

muck about in the muck

this is the part where she beats me

this is the part where i spit blood onto the floor and ask for another

this is when she looks at me and sees the look of intoxicated bliss

this is where she leaves

this is where i say fine

the door slams

eyes open and see the clock to know i have been asleep for an hour, but it feels like days, a daze, a month long sabbatical of finding oneself in the nonsense, nonsensical and prosaic, graffiti on the train cars, hidden messages from secret admirers, mired by falsehoods and accusations

inflammatory

wakey wakey, no rest for the wicked

going clubbing, looking for baby seals, unsealed the lips of liars and truth telling mechanical fortune tellers, predestined to predispossessed disinterest

playing games with cheat codes and aim assist, aimless, inebriated in the thought that freedom is another anchor tied to your neck, a blank check, bouncing like the rubber soul of another lost personality in the effervescent land of make believe

make me believe in anything but nothingness

make love to me, make me love again, make me whole, holy, not this hole, unable to gather the pieces of inner peace, unwilling to see, enable the reset button, start over from the game over screen

i am dreaming

sleeping in my bed, pillow under head, not dead, the words went unsaid, failing to to function again

we count our blessings and our failings and hope they balance out

past regressions and doubts

dreaming of quiet places and smiles

dreading the world outside our windows

i miss you, missed you, had you in my sights and pulled the trigger to the gun at my own head, misread the signs and ended up in a convalescent home for dying dreamers

vacant, vacated on note for eviction, convictions once held, vacations and retractions, insecure lines of communication, wire tapped and recorded, studious injustices and tied to the tracks like a damsel in a western, no white hats, just villians and vague indecisiveness

a circular choose your adventure, the dream of the desolate

i am sleeping in a state of heightened hibernation, waiting for a kiss from princess charming to end the witch’s curse, poisoned apple from the tree of knowledge, pricked by the pin of inner doubt, this glass coffin the final resting place of despondency, see through like every story ever told

like every soul ever sold

like every life put on hold

the only growth is mold

my final act to fold

dreaming

of better tomorrow

inspite of today

despite yesterday

dreams

6 thoughts on “dreaming

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